


Compromise

by iamee



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And I mean Feelings, Banter, Bottom Eggsy, Dom/sub Undertones, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Bottoming, Intoxication, M/M, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Relationship Negotiation, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, This Is Not How You Make A Martini, Top Harry, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5763256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamee/pseuds/iamee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened between learning how to make Martinis and going to pop Eggsy's cherry in a dressing room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Three will be up sooner than Chapter Two, promise.

**Compromise**

 

 

"This," Eggsy says in a Martini-thick voice, drawing out syllables like it's an act of leisure. "Is the best fackin day of my life."

Harry chooses not to snort. 

"I believe you said the very same thing after I let you hold my gun for the first time. Or when you made Merlin spit his tea."

Eggsy's eyes have lit up at the gun comment, his lips curling soundlessly around a _very_ inappropriate response, but he licks them instead, leans back in Harry's arm chair.

"Well, that was amazin', bruv."

"So it was."

Harry tops up Eggsy's glass, then his own, before taking a seat opposite the boy. Eggsy watches him over the rim of the glass he has promptly snatched, throat moving to get down another mouthful. The burning of the alcohol adds to the glow on his face, features relaxed and so very open. _Inviting_ , Harry tries not to think when their eyes meet.

"Don't act like ya didn't fink t'was funny."

"I never said I didn't."

He knows he is playing along, falling into their usual banter as easily as breathing. Somewhere between picking up Eggsy at the police station and holding the door open for him to enter his home he has lost all sense of professionalism. It is by all means preferable to pretend he's still got it though.

Eggsy smiles at him, legs splaying as he sinks further into the comfort of the chair, drinking as if he has earned it along with the luxury of slipping back into bad posture and thicker accent. God knows he has worked hard enough for it. Harry wishes it would only be pride swelling inside him, but he's lived with himself for long enough to know he's neither that good nor prone to denial.

"Oh but yer so good at acting, Harry."

Eggsy's smile morphs into a grin, wide and happy, eyes bright with wit even through the haze of an early stage of intoxication. Which is what Harry keeps repeating to himself as he takes a sip of his own drink. The boy is drunk and any form of acting on his own base desires (as evolved and neatly coiled around a surprising amount of feelings they might be) would be taking advantage. 

"That is very kind of you, Eggsy."

"Bet yer good at _anythin'_ ya do, aren'tcha?"

And whilst taking advantage is not something Harry is unfamiliar with, this particular flavour doesn't sit right with him, as grey as zones might get in their line of work.

"I've been told I am a very poor tennis player."

Eggsy gives a noise that fascinatingly captures both amusement and frustration: "s'not what I meant an' ya know it."

Well, it has to be said that Eggsy inebriated is just as headstrong as Eggsy is sober. Which shouldn't do a thing to tip the moral scale Harry's so carefully upholding during their little conversation.

Harry crosses his legs, wipes invisible lint from his trousers and takes another sip. In the opposite chair, Eggsy grows restless, his eyes following each of Harry's movements like he's waiting for an opening, a point of attack, so to speak. Truly, it is pride that is swelling in Harry, but at this moment in time it is mixed with lust in a way that makes both of them nearly impossible to distinguish.

"I am afraid you'll have to be a bit more precise, dear."

Harry _is_ good at acting, but even he can't deny the fractional shaking of his hand as he sets down his Martini, legs unfolding, mirroring Eggsy's motion and then watching the boy get up.

"I mean... anything." Eggsy says again, sounding both less and more certain of his choice of words than previously. He's crossing the space between their chairs too quickly, too eagerly. There will have to be more training to smooth out such imperfections and yet it has Harry's cock pressing to the outlines of his trousers. 

"Like this." Eggsy says and straddles him.

Leave it to this boy to make the most simple thing, like for example an iron self-control, near impossible.

"I think you'll find my participation in this instance is paling in comparison to yours." Harry points out deliberately clearly, which is admittedly a cheap trick to regain anything like composure, but it doesn't earn him the anticipated glare.

"Then participate." Eggsy whispers hotly against his chin, grinding down in a movement so perfect it cannot possibly be right.

There is a brief moment in which Harry ponders on the idea if he himself is perhaps being taken advantage of. It is, after all, his house, his gin, his very _lap_ , that Eggsy has occupied, consumed and is now squirming on quite enthusiastically, but he quickly dismisses the thought.

"Is there any point in suggesting we wait one more night until this, ah, becomes less of a situation of power imbalance?"

"No." Eggsy says against his Adam's apple, but there is a hitch in the word, a new-found urgency in the way he rocks on Harry's lap that's quite telling for how far a little praise could go even if it comes understated and at room temperature. Harry files it away for future references.

"Very well." Harry moves his hands to Eggsy's waist and lifts, pleased with how willingly Eggsy goes despite his small whine, letting himself be spread out on the carpet between their respective chairs. It seems an appropriate course of action. "I'll participate if you don't."

It is a simple bargain and he's quite aware that the scales haven't been tipped in his favour but rather thrown out completely. Yet it is enough to find a certain comfort in his own assurance if only he repeats it often enough.

_If he doesn't ask a single thing, if the mere goal is Eggsy's pleasure, then he might possibly be forgiven._

Just as well, Harry Hart's been accused of many things, being a saint never one of them.

"Whad?"

Eggsy looks at him from his new position on the floor (on his back and legs threatening to splay at any second) with a frown. Licks his lips because what does he know about being a danger to Harry's heart or sanity. The answer is "probably too much".

"You understood me quite well, darling."

His knees protest as he settles between Eggsy's legs which have given in to gravity and invitation, but he doesn't find it in himself to care about the light pain.

"But I wanna touch ya." Eggsy mouths, eyes closing and the last word stretching into an unashamed moan as Harry runs both hands over his thighs. His lips are red from his own tongue and teeth, cheeks ruddy with the warmth of alcohol and arousal. There is wetness on his hideous trousers where Harry runs his nose and then lips over the hard line of his cock and Eggsy's hips buck under his hands.

"'Arry."

He's sweet and he smells like himself, good and strong and familiar in a way that causes Harry to pull back for a second to collect what's left of his wits. Their eyes meet over the heaving of Eggsy's chest, and Harry's gaze follows the movement of Eggsy's throat before he smiles. And Eggsy, not being a saint either nor a sinner, puts his hands over his head and breathes Harry's name again, saying the words like he's telling him a secret or much rather something he's sure Harry knows already.

"Ya can do with me whatever ya want, ya know?"

"I hardly think one night will be sufficient for that."

Harry hooks his fingers in the waistband of Eggsy's underwear and reveals inch after inch of lovely, creamy skin and finally Eggsy's cock, the skin hot silk under his touch, the tip wetting his fingertips when he drags them over it. Eggsy gives a little noise from above, shifting his bare hips on Harry's carpet.

"That'snot what this is." Eggsy says, always having to say, do, what's right, even if there is a hand on his cock and more than just years separating them. "Not ah one night thing, is what 'm sayin'."

And doesn't Harry's heart flutter at that in a way it hasn't in a long time. Pleasant, certainly. Mildly concerning just as well.

"I like to think such conversations are for the morning after." He tells Eggsy who looks at him, opens his lips to – undoubtedly – inform him that a morning after requires a night before, but Harry has had his fair share of waiting when it comes to Eggsy Unwin, so he bends down and takes him between his lips, savouring the taste and sounds of his actions.

"I... 'Arry, oh for fack's sake."

It is dangerously satisfying to hear the tremor of frustration in Eggsy's voice when he pulls back to press chaste kisses around the head, down a side, readjusting his position to be able to pepper the insides of Eggys's thigh with kisses. If he gets a chance at repetition he'll take a week off work to find every single one of Eggsy's erogenous zones and make him come until he forgets speech and then some more. There is an obviousness to the fact that no one has ever taken time to worship Eggys's body, that Harry not only finds outrageous on a personal level, but also intends to redeem quite vigorously. 

"Keep your hands where they are, Eggsy. You're doing so well."

He's not going to pretend he wouldn't like to coax Eggsy to come down his throat, yet he's acutely aware of how Eggsy's body moves under him with each kiss, every sweet word. He's brushing lips over his stomach, gathering drops of sweat on his tongue and Eggsy's breath hitches. He licks up the hollow part where Eggsy's leg becomes his hip, grazes teeth over the meaty part of his thigh and the boy swears, hands flexing on the carpet.

"You're stunning like this, dear. I wish you could see yourself."

Underneath him, Eggsy squirms, tries to huff a laugh.

"Yer so full of it."

"I would hope so."

And with that Harry gives in, mouth opening to accommodate all of Eggsy at once, humming as Eggsy predictably bucks under his hands, all but arching off the floor, the heels of his winged trainers dragging over the carpet and the poor thing can't even spread his legs much further with the trousers trapped around his knees. Suddenly and hotly, Harry is thankful for the experience of age. Without it, he'd have Eggsy right here and right now and deal with the consequences once his head stopped spinning or exhaustion caused them to stop.

As it is, he's making a sound around Eggsy's cock, trying to convey something akin to soothing while he strokes his thumbs over sharp hipbones, pining Eggsy down for what it's worth so he can pull back off and repeat the motion.

"Harry... that's..." Eggsy's swallowing audibly, sounding pained enough to make Harry pull back to look him over.

He wasn't lying, Eggsy's a vision like this, flushed and trembling, his cock shining with spit and his hands carding through his own hair before they slump back on the ground when Eggsy sighs with his whole body.

"Told ya, I wanna touch."

"Certainly." Harry remarks dryly, his heart aching with a fondness that is probably not entirely appropriate given their current position. "But still a negative."

With that he flips Eggsy on his stomach, deciding quite quickly that the sight is well-worth every amount of cleaning in the morning. There is a muffled protest from below and he meets Eggsy's eyes under strands of hair as Eggsy strains to look over his shoulder.

"Oh fack yes, Harry."

Harry would take the time to explain carefully that sadly no, he still hasn't changed his mind about which parts of himself are acceptable to insert into Eggsy, but he finds himself rather mesmerised by Eggsy's hole, clenching so sweetly around the tip of a thumb and going rosy at his touch.

"… been thinking 'bout this." Eggsy tells him, resting his cheek on a hand, mouth going slack once Harry starts pushing his thumb into him just a little. "'bout you. Us. Doin' this an _ohG_ o _d_!"

Harry thinks he's nodding in agreement, because so has he. More than he should and less innocently than he likes to make Merlin believe. As if the man could be fooled if he can't fool himself.  
He keeps Eggsy's rim breached with the pad of his thumb, their skin warming to the same temperature and he leans in to taste it, both of them, salt and musk, Eggsy's body jolting. 

"Would you say this is an acceptable form of compromise, love?"

Eggsy attempts again to spread his legs wider, clears his throat, his voice dripping with posh, consonants sharp as glass, the mocking cutting through Harry's calm like shards: "I would say I have been trained by the most dangerous man I know, so stopping isn't advisable. _Luv_."

There's a growl working its way up Harry's throat when he presses in again, the flat of his tongue following Eggsy's taste until pure heat envelops him. His thumb has to leave in favour of seeking closeness whenever he isn't kissing taut skin. One hand has found its way on Eggsy's arse, squeezing now and then to trace the shivers running through his boy whenever his tongue stabs a little deeper. The other hand reaches around to lie on Eggsy's stomach so he won't miss the way his muscles tense and relax with every surge of bliss. Predictably, Eggsy tries to move, push his cock into Harry's hand.

"Bastard." Eggsy gets out after fruitless seconds, making Harry pull back with a sound so filthy there might be a law against it.

"I understand you would like to come?"

Underneath him, Eggsy shakes, moans into the carpet where he has turned his face. He looks wrecked, the marks of fingertips still fading on his arse, his hole red and open. Harry has to reach down to subtly adjust himself in the confinement of his trousers. Once this is done they will both need a shower for very different reasons.

"Yes, Harry."

What more encouragement could he need to push two fingers knuckle-deep into Eggsy, press them insistently to his prostate and wrap a hand around his cock to catch most of the mess? Admittedly, there is more than a little pleasure to stroking Eggsy's insides while the boy trembles through his release, hands curled to fists on the floor and Harry's name spilling from his lips like he's unable to stop. Then again Harry never truly believed in forgiveness.

He pulls back, lets Eggsy roll over and carefully sink down onto a dry patch to collect his breathing, takes the time to produce a handkerchief and clean himself off, then makes to get up. Eggsy reaches to wrap a hand around his wrist, eyes hooded, but the smile is back on his face, wide and inviting. He hasn't pulled up his trousers yet, looking more than thoroughly debauched and Harry's heart flutters yet again. This is going to be an issue.

"Where do ya think yer goin'?"

"To get some towels," Harry says pointedly, ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice. "And then, I believe, it is time to retire."

Eggsy lets him go after another squeeze, sitting up enough to rest his head against one of the arm chairs.

"Can't wait ta see how good yer at makin' breakfast, bruv."

Harry might not be a saint, but he could get used to letting Eggsy Unwin take advantage of that fact.  
  
  
  



	2. Compromise - Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who takes a year to write a second chapter and then decides there needs to be a third one? That would be me. But hey, if anyone is still reading this, I'm getting all hyped for the Kingsman sequel so might not take another year to update this time. Ha..haha. Why am I like this.

**Compromise – Chapter Two**

 

 

"So," Eggsy says, when Harry's settled down at the table and brought a cup of tea to his lips, "When's the appropriate time between two gentlemen ta bring up how much one of'em liked the tongue-fackin the other gave him the night before?"

A part of him is hoping to make Harry do a spit take (cause that would be two out of two and Roxy would owe him a fiver), the rest is a mess of strung up need to talk about _this_ , in fact, get the talking out of the way completely and fall into Harry's bed for the rest of... well, their lives, if you're asking him, but he'd be pretty damn fine with the rest of the day for starters.

Harry takes his time to answer. He puts down the cup, he swallows (Eggsy's okay with the visuals, so that's all fine and merry), picks up a fork and starts on his scrambled eggs as if this were just a very casual topic for breakfast. Hand me the newspaper, dear and yes, I very much enjoyed shagging you senseless with my tongue and fingers yesterday. And maybe it is, for Harry and some unknown companion, and if Eggsy's heart is pumping with a sudden jab of greenblooded jealousy at the idea, that ain't nobody's business.

"I reckon sobriety did not change your mind?"

Calm like a cucumber. Bastard. Eggsy shoots him a wide smile, that seemed to work just fine yesterday so here goes nothing.

"I told ya that's not what it was. I don't want it to be." 

"Is there a point in asking you to wait until you have officially become Lancelot?" Harry says, dabbing his mouth with a napkin and the jab to Eggsy's heart turns pleasurable. Harry sounds so certain. There's no "if", no nothing, just the question of being patient. Too bad that's not one of Eggsy's strengths.

"No." He says, shrugs when Harry laughs abruptly like he didn't expect the sound to come out of himself.

"I still do have some reservations." Harry starts and Eggsy's finally putting down the bun he's been picking apart for the last ten minutes. 

They look at each other over the silverware and the nice plates, Eggsy's mind flashing back briefly to the apron Harry was wearing just a few minutes ago, a laugh threatening to bubble up at the sheer absurdity of it, at the bone-deep want that he's got for this man. It lasts about a second, but that's plenty to make a lot of really stupid decisions.

So Eggsy gets up from the table, abandoning the bun and potentially every last bit of shame left in him, because the next words that come out of his mouth are: "How 'bout I suck them out of ya?" 

Harry's answer starts with 'Eggsy', of course it does, but Eggsy's not having it, not when they're here on the _morning after_ and Harry's at least willing to talk about it. Like a thing that happened in the same life where Eggsy's training to become a super spy. Funny how these things turn out.

"Ya know, I could swear ya said something about one night not being enough."

"If you remember last night so clearly, dear, I'm sure you will recall our arrangement." Harry begins folding his napkin before he simply leaves it crumpled next to his plate with a sigh. His body is all straight, firm lines when he stands up and Eggsy can feel heat pooling in his stomach, making him step closer even if Harry isn't saying yet that he should. His mouth is dry when Harry turns to face him, the tips of their shoes almost touching.

"I'm sober now an' I'm not going'ta change mah mind. Do ya want ta stick to that 'arrangement', 'Arry?" Eggsy asks after a second has gone by without his heartbeat slowing down at all or Harry's eyes ever leaving his face. It's making him drunk in a different way, drunk not just on Harry's scent or his warmth, but also on the fact that he lets him be this close. Again. Fack. 

The next moment passes more slowly than any other in Eggsy's life, his face growing hot under Harry's gaze. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to someone looking at him with this kind of intensity. Like, really looking at him and not just at the space he takes up.

"Not. Ever." Harry says and it sounds like a curse. 

It feels like they're suddenly matching parts of two magnets, bodies going from apart to pressed flush together in the same time it takes Eggsy to realise he's hard, thankyouverymuch. He's hard and he's pressed against Harry from their shins to their chests. He wonders if Harry can feel how his heart is racing, a mile a minute just because of where they are now.

"Can I..." Eggsy asks, not finishing the sentence because what he wants to ask for is everything and Harry's nodding already like he knows, bless him, pulling Eggsy closer with both hands, just as greedy and it's a relief, to be honest, not to be wanting on his own.

Eggsy thinks about commenting on how much time they've wasted while they could be doing this already, but they're not making any more fuss about it now, nope, quite the opposite. They're moving against each other, downright filthy rolls of their hips, fingers grasping at fabric, Eggsy's mouth attached to a spot right under Harry's jaw and it takes him a second to realise this whining sound is coming from himself. It's too much, but also not and Harry's hands are so _fackin_ warm and controlled while they slide down Eggsy's back, cup his arse to guide him into the next push and pull of their bodies.

"Harry, could ya." Eggsy says, licking and kissing his way up to Harry's ear, hands bunched into the back of Harry's shirt so tight he'll ruin the fabric. Hell, he wants to ruin it. Be ruined in return. He doesn't quite remember how that talking thing worked.

And Harry still _lets_ him. Slips on top of the table without much pause, slides his body in some clear space like the rest doesn't still look like the Queen's bloody breakfast table. Eggsy thinks he might be whimpering. Oh he's definitely making some sort or other of noises and lots of them.  
But Harry is Harry and he's sitting there in front of him, kissing the inside of Eggsy's wrist now and his voice hasn't started breaking yet even if he's half hard under Eggsy's other, searching hand.

"This won't be comfortable, dear boy." 

If Eggsy didn't know any better he'd think the only reaction Harry's having to this is amusement.

And even if it were he couldn't stop.

"Don't need comfortable, just need ya."

Fack and ain't that the truth? He doesn't think he could stand not having this for much longer, like he's waited a lifetime and not just a couple of months. He's not looking at Harry now, only down at his hand on him, squeezing dark fabric and then there's a last press of lips on his pulse and Harry lets go of him so Eggsy can work his trousers open.  
There is a moment of silence while Eggsy weights him in his hand, a new burst of heat rushing up from his stomach when Harry stiffens against his skin and then...

"I believe you mentioned some attempt at sucking?"

Eggsy almost laughs. 

Instead he licks his lips, eyes lowered and he doesn't mean to sound this sultry, he doesn't, but his voice makes Harry push into his touch a tiny fraction like he can't help it.

"Yes, Harry."

Eggsy's experiences with cocksucking are pretty much based on being on the receiving end of things. Doesn't mean he hasn't thought about it. Truth be told, there's been a steep increase in him thinking about it ever since he's met Harry. Just imagining what he'd sound like while he's pushing his cock into Eggsy's mouth.

As it is with most fantasies, it doesn't really compare to reality.

For once, Harry's not as vocal as Eggsy's lust-addled brain liked to supply during those shower wank sessions. Because when's Harry ever anything but minutely controlled destruction and sharp-edged politeness? So no, he doesn't tell Eggsy to take it or how pretty he looks when he finally sinks to his knees and closes his lips around the head.

What Harry does is inch closer to the edge of the table, making Eggsy think for a second that he's about to pull him to his feet and tell him to stop, but all that happens is a change in the angle that prevents Eggsy from getting a damn crick in his neck. He blinks his eyes open to look up at Harry, just in time to see him reach out, curl a hand around the base of Eggsy's skull and hold him like he's something precious. The tug of arousal deep down like something coming undone inside Eggsy is familiar, but the short, stumbling jump his heart makes isn't. Not like this. 

"Oh Eggsy." Harry says and presses in a little more before he pulls back enough to slip from Eggsy's lips completely.

Eggsy does lean after him. He can still taste Harry, feel hot skin on his lips and stopping just doesn't seem appealing at all. His eyes are still on Harry's, his mouth pressing to the thumb that replaces Harry's cock just for a second.

"It has occurred to me," Harry clears his throat. "that I haven't kissed you yet."

Eggsy's dizzy, giddy, desperate: "Has it?"

"I do believe we have changed up the whole routine quite a bit."

Eggsy gets to his feet very damn willingly now, Harry's hand not leaving the nape of his neck and Eggsy looks up at him, feeling a smile grow wide on his face.

"Ya got me drinks, dinner and breakfast, not to mention the tongue stuff. I think we're right on track, bruv."

Harry looks very serious for a moment, his thumb returning to Eggsy's lip as if he's trying to trace something there.

"I think you should know that this is amongst the first things I wanted to do to you."

And with that Harry leans in to press his lips to Eggsy's, hand guiding him in until Eggsy tilts his head, mouth opening to let Harry deepen the kiss. Eggsy's been kissed plenty of times and it wasn't like this. Because usually he knows where he's going with it, but this feels like diving into the deep end. Harry's lips are soft and sure on his own, alternating between pecks and small licks that get Eggsy's lips to part again and again, meet Harry's kiss as good as he can. His knees are a bit wobbly when he comes up for air, hands clutching at Harry's shirt sleeves. Up this close Harry's eyes are gorgeous behind his glasses and Eggsy forgets to shut his eyes when Harry kisses him again, a last time, right on his cupid's bow.

"Glad we talked 'bout it." He breathes against Harry's mouth before he's even fully pulled away.

It's like it's physically painful to not be closer, so Eggsy presses in, heat rushing to his face when Harry lets out a groan that makes him remember he's bare against Eggsy's thigh.

"Shit. Right. I was.. in the middle of somethin."

There isn't that much calm left in Harry's voice, but Eggsy can hear him trying: "It has also occurred to me that I thought it best to let you sleep in the guest room last night."

Truth be told, Eggsy really doesn't have to think about this next part.

"Just take me to bed, Harry."  
  
  



	3. Compromise - Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote more smut and finished this fic. Thank you all for reading, the comments and kudos have made me so happy! It means a lot.:)

**Compromise – Chapter Three**

 

 

If kissing Harry can be improved at all, then kissing Harry while they're both naked is definitely Eggsy's contender for that position. And nothing against the guest room, but the guest room doesn't have Harry's bed and being in there definitely _definitely_ improves everything.

"Oh come _off_ it." He whines when Harry pulls away from a bruising kiss yet again to pin him back into the sheets.

Eggsy's not exactly shy, but there is an amount of attention that would make anyone blush. And Harry's gaze is heavy on him, warm brown eyes making him want to squirm and hold still all at once because that's what Harry does to him.

"According to my calculations we've still got a couple of hours left, Eggsy. There is hardly a need to rush." Harry says from above him.

That smug bastard has somehow managed to pull himself together on the way up the stairs while all of Eggsy's blood has travelled below his waistline at the same time. Unfair, that's what it is.

"Is that right?" Eggsy pushes up a bit, tests the hold Harry's got on both his wrists and his stomach does some complicated motion. "Thought ya were done waiting too."

"This isn't waiting." There's that look again, Harry's eyes scorching a line from his thighs right up to his lips and this time Eggsy does squirm. "It's savouring."

Eggsy's curse dies against Harry's lips, back in full force and then for a few seconds they're both just kissing and sucking and _taking_ like it's the end of the world. There's some line in here about gentlemen not kissing like it's fucking that slips out when Eggsy turns his head, breathes through his nose, deep and urgent like breaking through the surface after being underwater.  
Harry does looking exasperated pretty well.

"If you think this is fucking then I am clearly not doing it right."

"Get bloody on with it, then."

Suddenly he can take his hands off the sheets and Eggsy takes the chance to clutch at the back of Harry's neck, nails scratching just below the hairline. Harry allows him another kiss, one more, until Eggsy can feel his muscles straining from pulling himself up like this, but honestly, it just adds to the rush.

"Want you ta fuck me after a mission. On a mission. In yer office. At the--"

Harry inhales sharply against the corner of his mouth and Eggsy swallows.

"I haven't even had you once. Eggsy." 

That's a good point but – in Eggsy's opinion – also an overrated one. But he makes himself take a few deep breaths, head clearing just a bit to wink at Harry. 

"Guess we'll have to decide after in that case."

Harry's reply gets lost while he disentangles himself and leaves the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

Eggsy flops back down on his back to look at the ceiling, deciding whether or not following Harry and demanding to be had on the sink is a good idea or just pushing it. Lucky for him, Harry returns in time to save him from making up his mind. Carrying a small package of lube and condoms, bless him.

"Can you lie on your stomach for me?" Harry's back to sounding in control and Eggsy's fifty-fifty on liking that voice. Somewhere between hell yes and wanting to make Harry lose his cool again. But a time and a place for everything, so Eggsy rolls over on his stomach.

Harry's there right away, lifting him up at the hips to push a pillow under him and it's all just so very _proper_ Eggsy's feeling a bit like asking if they'll be taking part in an educational video of sorts. But maybe that's an idea for another time. For now, Eggsy settles on going with the flow, letting Harry arrange him, move over him to kiss his neck, stroke down his sides, fingertips warming his skin and you know, it's just very very nice. It's like Harry's replaced his gaze with his lips, his hands, his tongue. He's mapping out Eggsy like new territory, all thorough and with care.

"Harry." Eggsy gasps out when teeth graze his shoulder, slick fingers feather-light on his inner thigh. Things have never gone from very nice to more _pl **e** ase_now quite so fast for him. Oh scratch that, they so have from the day on when he met Harry. Honest.

Harry doesn't react verbally apart from humming into Eggsy's skin, continues kissing like he's got all day. He's caressing Eggsy's back, down his arm, thumb pressing deeper on muscles Eggsy didn't even know were sore, pressure gentle above his elbows, barely there on the back of his wrist. He's not pushed a single digit inside him yet and Eggsy's already gagging for it. He's only human, right?

And when there's finally the brush of a wet fingertip against his hole he jerks under Harry like he's been shocked, some curse slipping out between lips and teeth.

"Stunning." Harry comments, voice lower than before.

Eggsy closes his eyes and presses back against Harry's finger. Pushes up on elbows and knees to get more leverage and then he's being breached. Unlike sucking cock this is something he's got a bit more experience with than just what they did last night. The fingering part, that is. He seems to attract birds who got a thing for it. Not like he ever needed convincing. So he knows when to breathe, when to push back a little more and he's only realising that Harry's stopped moving when he clenches down on a knuckle, opens his eyes.

"This is something I should have asked before, but have you previously done this, Eggsy?"

"Sort'of." Eggsy licks his lips, rolls his shoulders to relax before he's taking some more. "An' I'm about to do it with you, yeah?"  
He can hear Harry breathe out very deliberately. It's a nice London morning, the sun's coming through the windows and he's just asked Harry Hart to be his first. Genius.

The second fingertip that's brushing him doesn't make Eggsy jerk again, but it loosens a sound that was stuck in his chest and that he now pants into the pillow. He's feeling raw like this, too much attention on every part of his skin and all so slow. It's like yesterday night all over again only now he gets to touch Harry too. Which is better and worse when he can't reach.

"Yes, Eggsy."

Harry takes his time opening him up. All 'slow and steady wins the race' and Eggsy can hardly take it any more by the time Harry makes a sound of approval. Eggsy blinks his eyes opens, licks sweat from his lips when Harry pulls his fingers out of him. There's a thrumming deep inside his body like he's been properly fucked for hours, but he's hard between the pillow and his stomach, sticky there as well. He clears his throat: "Makin' a mess out of yer bed here."

Behind him, Harry's ripping foil open, followed by the sound of flesh on flesh when he gets himself ready and Eggsy wants to _look_. So he does.

He's pretty damn proud he's not just staring at Harry touching himself, but also meeting his eyes.

"I was under the impression that was the entire idea." Harry says.

Eggsy wants to laugh but at this rate it might turn into a needy sob, so he lies back down, buries his face in his arms and makes a sound somewhere along the lines of godyesplease.

The good thing about Harry is that he can take a hint even if he sometimes pretends he doesn't. And Eggsy's somehow still alive despite arousal when hands stroke up his thighs, sheets rustling to Harry's weight settling between his legs.

"Are you sure?"

Harry's voice is close to his ear, his hot breath causing a pleasant shudder to run down Eggsy's spine. Yes, he wants this. It's quite possible he's never wanted anything this much and the way Harry doesn't make it sound like he's asking 'are you sure I won't break you?' or 'are you sure it should be me?' makes him aware of something he's feeling behind all the electric excitement and need. Safe.

"Yes." Eggsy says with his mouth against his own skin.

There's a kiss pressed into his hair and Harry is moving. It's a bit weird, right? It should be weird, lying and waiting to have someone push inside you. Eggsy's heart is going fast, his throat clicks with the initial pressure. Harry isn't completely quiet either, his breath hitches, he makes a soft noise when Eggsy's body opens up that Eggsy mirrors without being able to help it. It's weird and he wants more.

Harry's going slowly, different from the way he was before while nothing's changed about the intensity of it. Quite the opposite. 

"Oh my god." Eggsy breathes out because he's just pushed up and back into a thrust and for a second it's a lot, Harry blood-hot inside him, Harry's chest against his back.

The second repeats itself, Harry's arm wrapping around his middle to keep him there, both of them shaking a little bit. Harry's saying his name, has been saying it for a while now judging by his tone when Eggsy finally finds his voice again to mumble a reply.

"Let me know if it is too much."

Eggsy lowers his head: "Are you sayin' there's more, 'Arry? Impressive."

"Cheeky." Harry mutters, still not moving. "But do answer, love."

"'m fine, I swear. Just..."

Harry leans over him again, hand sure against Eggsy's stomach: "Just?"

"Just let me have it."

Eggsy knows he sounds breathless and this side of desperate, not like he really cares as long as he gets it. Does Harry even know how long he's waited for this?  
Harry is quiet for a long moment, holding himself inside Eggsy and that thought, no scratch that, that knowledge alone has Eggsy whimper.

"Harry--" he gets out before Harry pulls back, leaving him empty for a heartbeat before he pushes back in hard enough to make him forget the rest of the sentence.

After that it's hard for Eggsy to to think past the way he's feeling. He's still covered in sweat, worse now with Harry rubbing against him, inside him, pulling him back at his hips and pressing kisses to the side of his neck. Everything is heat and movement and his heart is so loud sometimes he can barely hear himself panting and moaning. And honestly, he'd be happy to hear nothing but the sounds Harry's making. Every whispered 'Eggsy' and 'yes', the small groan every time he bottoms out like he can't believe it's happening. Eggsy can't believe it's happening. 

He's back to rocking into it, head thrown back when Harry presses deep at an angle that has him aching for it to happen again. It's good. Of course it's good, he knew it would be, he just didn't think Harry would make him feel like it's the same for him. Like it's impossible not to want more, not to let go of the sheets to grab back at Harry, twist his head around to kiss even though it's sloppy.

This way they're slowing down a bit, enough for Harry's hand to slip from Eggsy's stomach to his cock. Eggsy makes a noise into the kiss, squirms to push himself into Harry's hand and honestly, he's also surprised to hear himself going: "Wait.".

"Is something the matter, dear?"

"Want to look at you when you come."

God, does he ever. 

Harry doesn't reply, but he lowers him on the bed, pulls out to let Eggsy roll on his back and kick the pillow out of the way.

"An' I'm close, Harry. So that's a good way ta work on our timin'." 

If Eggsy didn't know any better he'd think telling Harry these things in bed could eventually crack his composure. He's definitely a sight right now. His hair keeps falling into his face and he's closing his eyes when he slides back inside Eggsy, lips moving to something inaudible. Eggsy has to kiss him then, wrap his arms around Harry's neck and pull up his legs to get him closer.

There's nothing slow about it now. Not much room to move either for Eggsy but he's perfectly happy to kiss Harry's neck, bear down to take him like they've never done anything else. And Harry, Harry's rutting into him, these last few moments before Eggsy comes all over his hand, arching off the bed. Actually he's pretty pleased with himself for holding out this long. He's only wanted this for months, after all.

And through the afterglow Harry's moving inside him until he goes still with a moan, the sight plenty for Eggsy to file away for later and probably replay until the end of time.

"Have you come to a conclusive decision on repeating this in my office?" Harry sounds excellent with his voice hoarse from saying Eggsy's name.

Eggsy kisses him.

"Or perhaps you were looking for an addition to your list of locations."

"Let's hear it."

He only winces a bit when Harry pulls out to tie up and dispose of the condom to join him in bed again.

"These are plans for the afternoon and you'll have plenty of time to find out."

Eggsy stifles a yawn: "Told ya, best fackin' day of my life."

 

If kissing Harry can be improved at all, then kissing Harry while they're both naked, sweaty and falling asleep after breakfast is absolutely what Eggsy would call a winner.  
  
  
**The End**


End file.
